Chapter 36 - Brooke

For a moment, I couldn’t move; I just stood and stared at what I saw on the other side of the room. The handcuffs lying so casually by the television remote had given me pause, but this was enough to steal all the oxygen from my lungs.

It was like a movie set from a nightmare. There was another camera, much more professional than the small one by the DVD collection, set up on a tripod, aimed at a bedroom that would have seemed normal, maybe even somewhat pretty, like it was from a mid-priced hotel. Except for all the straps. And ropes. And things I didn’t want to contemplate what they were for.

Skating over that with my stomach curling into knots, I saw some sort of contraption that looked like it was out of a medieval history book. I tipped my head, trying to figure it out, and getting even sicker when I realized where a person’s arms and legs would go, and how they’d be at the utter mercy of the person who put them there. I leaned over and grabbed my knees to keep from puking, but couldn’t tear my eyes away from this completely abnormal side of the room. A neat row of knives hung on the wall behind the torture devise, interspersed with whips and long, thin chains. Next to that was an incongruous rack of clothes, from evening gowns to frilly lingerie and everything in between.

That did it, and I heaved onto the carpet. Nothing much came up since I hadn’t eaten, and I was left shaking and breaking out in a cold sweat.

Stop. Focus. I was alone, and untied. I had to get it together.

Straightening up, I made my way around the room, searching for a way out. There were no windows and the door was locked so tight it didn’t even rattle when I threw my weight against it. All that creepy stuff sent chills crawling up and down my skin, but I made my way over to search for a weapon.

The knives were an obvious choice and I pried one off the strong magnetic strip it was attached to. They were all small and slender, with intricate details on the handles, which somehow made me feel even sicker. Luca was really into this. Maybe if I was too, I wouldn’t have been so filled with hatred and revulsion, but I wasn’t. Not at all.

The names and dates on the videos made everything click and I curled up in a ball with one of the knives clutched in my hand. After a few minutes without getting sick again from wondering if I’d live through this, with nothing more than my name on one of those cases on the wall to show I’d ever been alive, I moved over near the door.

Huddling in a spot where I wouldn’t immediately be visible to anyone coming in, I gripped the knife in my hand so I’d be ready if it opened. When it opened, because of course it was only a matter of time, but I couldn’t let myself think about that without completely going to pieces.

Instead, I thought about Max. No matter what, I couldn’t seem to keep him out of my mind. All the little, sweet things he did came rushing forward, instead of the anger I had clung to the way I held onto this little knife. I’d been so damn furious at him so many times, but he’d put up with it all.

Was it really him I was so pissed off at, or the way he made me feel with only the crooked tilt of his sarcastic smile to reveal his dimples? God, even through the deep layers of my terror, I still felt warm when I envisioned that smile. The way he could hold himself back when I was about to climb out of my skin if he didn’t keep touching me. That had about killed me until I realized it was all an act. He wanted me every bit as much as I ever wanted him, but he was giving me the choice. All while acting like a prison guard and a tyrant, he was giving me the choice.

I practically made him bend over backward, too. He didn’t have to make his best guard don swim trunks and pace along the shore while I swam in the waves. I could have just as easily been confined to the house.

Oh God, Pavel. I’d gotten Pavel killed. How long had he and Max known one another? It was easy to see he trusted my guard like one of his brothers, and he was sure to be devastated when he found out. That broke my spirit more than the pain I felt about losing my new friend.

No, I couldn’t go down that road right now, not when I’d be fighting for my life soon. I tried to envision jumping up and sinking the knife into the first person who walked into the room next. I’d never done something like that before. Where to aim, how hard to thrust? My hands started shaking, and I leaned against the wall, unable to hold my alert crouch any longer.

Settling myself into a more comfortable position, just to rest my legs, I set the knife down and put my hands over my face, as if not seeing anything would make it all go away. It was unproductive, but thinking about Max was the only thing keeping me from screaming.

He cooked all those dinners for me, slowly learning my favorites without even asking. He didn’t have to order his assistant to go and buy me clothes she thought I’d like and set up a boutique in the house so I wouldn’t have to wear the same thing all the time. I could have just as easily been stuck in the same few outfits for the duration of my sentence.

How I’d hated being a prisoner, but was I really? It didn’t seem so now that I actually was one. Max had told me and told me, over and over, how dangerous Luca was. It wasn’t that I didn't believe him. I saw for myself what the man was capable of. I just didn’t understand the depths of his depravity the way Max did. Now I could see why he kept me hidden away, going so far as to move away from most of his family and his beloved diner to try to throw Luca off my trail.

And then I’d made such a fuss about going to San Francisco that he finally caved, against his better judgment. All to make me happy. And was I? I sure didn’t act like it.

That’s what he’d been doing all along. Trying to make me happy. From our first “date” at the pier, where he patiently let me take a nap so I wouldn’t be exhausted when he showed me his diner for the first time. He’d been so adorably proud, and he had every right to be. The place was amazing. That whole day had been a dream, as I glowed under his flirtatious compliments and felt so pretty in the new dress he insisted on buying so I didn’t feel out of place in my jeans.

I had honestly enjoyed his company and had been working up to having a crush on him despite thinking he could never be serious about someone like me. But he was serious, all right. And I threw those feelings back in his face. Worse, I’d ignored them.

I got it now, probably much too late. He wasn’t just protecting me. He cared to the point he overturned his whole damn life to keep me close. He didn’t know it was utter confusion that had made me clam up, and the idea he might think I had rejected his love made me press my hands to my chest to keep my heart from aching.

The door handle clicked next to me, and I was startled. I grabbed the knife and hurriedly got into position as I waited for it to swing open. My hands were sweaty and shaking but I somehow miraculously got my breathing under control with one thought. See Max again.

I prayed it wasn’t Luca, and just the guards. Better yet, one guard. I slowly rose as a shadow moved from the dimly lit hall outside, and the door opened further. There was a pause, and I held my breath. He was looking for me on the couch, but I wasn’t there.

Rethinking my plan of attack, it would have been better to pretend I was unconscious and stab him when he leaned over me, but it was too late now.

Luca slammed the rest of the way into the room, whirling toward me with a look of utter glee on his face. That horrible night in his apartment all came rushing back to me like angry phantoms. Even through the drug haze, I remembered him saying it would be more fun for him when I could fight back.

Filled with a hatred I didn’t think possible, I lunged at him with the knife held high. The blade skated across his shoulder, ripping his shirt. If it drew blood, he didn’t seem to feel it, and he easily wrenched the knife out of my hand to toss it toward the couch.

“That’ll come later,” he promised, licking his lips.

Seriously, how did I ever think he was handsome? He was vile, disgusting, and I shrank away from him as he moved slowly toward me. I was trapped in a corner now, between the open door and the television. Keeping my eyes on Luca, I reached for the television and brought it down with a crash. As soon as his glance shifted, I made a break for the door. Outside of the dungeon was a concrete block hallway and a set of stairs leading to another closed door at the top.

If it wasn’t locked…

I could taste my freedom. I was fast and strong and already halfway up the steps. Reaching for the door handle, only a few feet away, I felt a rough hand lock around my ankle, and I came crashing to the floor. Hard concrete slammed into my palms, saving my face from taking the brunt of the fall. The next thing I knew, I was being carried back into the nightmare room.

Kicking with every last bit of strength I had, I managed to claw at that famous face, leaving a long scratch down his cheek. I grabbed onto a handful of hair and ripped, but nothing seemed to register. Was he even human?

Tossing me onto the couch hard enough to make my teeth rattle, he spun around to slam the door shut, engaging the electronic lock. Turning back to me, he had a grin on his face that could have easily been a Halloween mask with bared teeth and crazed eyes.

“This is going to be even better than I imagined,” he said, advancing. “Why did you waste so much valuable time that we could have been together?”

I shook my head, clamping my lips together to keep from justifying his rants with a reply. His horrible smile slipped a little at the mere shake of my head.

“Come on now, don’t be stubborn. Or too stubborn, anyway,” he said, his teasing tone making my skin crawl. “I could show you the world, you know. Even make you famous if that’s what you want. All you have to do is spend some nice, quality time down here with me in return. You might even like it.”

“Never,” I hissed, giving up on silence just to get him to shut the hell up for a second. “There’s nothing you could ever give me that would make me choose to be here.”

He laughed, throwing back his head, before pinning me with a glare. “Of course. Because you chose Max. It’s always Fokin…” He paced in front of me, going off on a Shakespearean-level tangent about Max that I tuned out while I tried to think of ways to get past him and grab another knife. I wouldn’t miss this time.

It was clear he had a deep-seated jealousy of Max that he’d never been able to get over. A need to destroy him, like I’d wanted to do not so long ago. Now all I wanted was one more minute with him before this ranting demon finished me off. Because I knew that Luca wasn’t going to let me out of here alive. Killing me after making me suffer was the only way he could win against Max.

He finally finished raving, and I suddenly wished for more, since now his attention was fully on me. He could see the fear I was no longer able to hide under my loathing, and his eyes grew bright as he recognized it.

“Where should we start?” he muttered, his glance cutting to the torture device. “What should you wear for your debut into my collection?”

“Go to hell,” I spat as he advanced on me.

This was it. My last chance. I would have rather died than let him touch me. Springing up with every last ounce of strength fueled by fading adrenaline, I scrambled over the back of the couch and hurled myself toward the knives. My fingernails bent as I pried one away, and tears started flowing down my cheeks, from my decision to turn it on myself if I couldn’t sink it into his black heart.

The bastard only laughed as he calmly moved around the couch toward me. With every bit of hope I still had, I looked at the door, then back at him, raising the knife.

“You can’t hurt me,” he said. “And this place may as well be Fort Knox. You’re not getting out.”

That last glimmer of hope flickered out as he got close enough to whip out his hand and grab my wrist, squeezing until I dropped the knife. It was over. I tried and failed, and now it was over. Or worse, only about to start.

A massive crash behind him had Luca whirling around. White smoke and debris surrounded where the door had been, and through it all came a swarm of men wielding guns, Max leading the charge.

Within seconds, Luca was dragged away from me and Max’s big fist was smashing into his face. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor in a puddle of relief. Now, it was over, and I liked this outcome much better. Was I dreaming?

No, Luca’s cowardly screams were all too real, reverberating around the small room. It was like a symphony to my ears. As Max turned away from him and dropped to his knees beside me, three of his men dragged him toward the door, kicking and crying.

He helped me up, gathering me close and wrapping his arm around me. Smoothing my hair away from my face, he wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

“Are you okay?” His voice was ragged, his eyes dark and as hard as diamonds. The sound of a fist cracking against Luca’s face had him dragging his gaze away from me. “Don’t rough him up too much,” he ordered. Squeezing my shoulders, he left my side for a second to loom over Luca. “I have plans for you.”

The snarling threat had the world-famous action star pissing his pants and crying even harder. He was clearly only brave around people who were weaker than him. Calling on my last reserves of strength, I hurried over on wobbly legs and kicked him hard in the side of the head.

“Good girl,” Max said proudly. “Want to do it again before they take him away?”

“I’m good,” I said, glad my voice didn’t break. “Just get him far away from me, please.”

“He’s never going to get anywhere near you again,” Max promised. And I believed him.

As soon as his men dragged the sniveling actor away, I crumbled, falling into Max’s arms in a mess of sobs at how close things had come. His arms tightened around me as he smoothed his palms up and down my back.

“I just want to get out of here,” I said into the warmth and comfort of his muscular chest.

Nodding against the top of my head, he scooped me up like a baby and carried me up the flights of stairs and out into the refreshing, open air. I gulped in the cool night breeze; grateful I was free to breathe it again and my last moments weren’t spent in a pervert’s dungeon.

“You’re okay now,” Max said, sensing I was on the verge of hysteria and holding me closer. “It’s over.”

Extreme relief flooded me, along with exhaustion, and I let myself relax in his arms as he carried me down the winding drive to where his car was tucked among a wild growth of palm trees. I was half asleep when he settled me in the backseat, telling someone to drive us so he could stay back there with me.

I was safe again, thanks to Max. He’d found me and saved my life, and I was so tired I lost count of how many times this was. Had he done it out of a sense of responsibility, because that was the kind of man he was, or did I dare to hope he still cared?

If he was willing to listen, I vowed to tell him I had finally come to my senses and understood. And most importantly that, I felt the same. But for now, I was fading fast, just happy to be getting as far away as possible from that place.